Born Bad (14 page)

‘Well, all right, maybe I am exaggerating just a little. I just don’t want you lulled into a false sense of security with their canny lies and false smiles. Be on your guard, that’s all I’m saying.’

‘If they’re bad payers, why were they allowed to get into debt?’ In the short time he had known him, Harry’s instinct told him not to pay too much heed to what Len had to say. ‘Surely
it would have been better all round if Mr Jacobs had refused to let them have credit in the first place?’

‘Hmh! Listen to you. Been at it five minutes and already you’re dishing out the advice.’

Harry mentally kicked himself. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound that way.’ The last thing he needed was to get off on the wrong foot with the man chosen to teach him the job.

Taking a cigarette from
his jacket pocket, the other man lit it and took a long, slow drag. ‘In case you hadn’t realised, Jacobs is one hell of a smart businessman.’ Watching Harry with his beady eyes, he blew the smoke out in a perfect ring. ‘He knows that if he doesn’t give them credit, someone else will. Besides, if they don’t pay back what they owe, it’s only a matter of time before he has them in the petty courts.’

He gave a dissatisfied grunt. ‘It’s all decided by the local magistrate. He listens to their sorry tale, then lets them pay off the debt at a few measly quid a month. I tell you what though – if I were in Jacobs’ shoes, I’d forget the courts.’

‘And do what?’ Harry anticipated his answer.

‘I’d send the heavies round, that’s what I’d do. Teach the buggers a lesson they won’t forget in a hurry.
Either that, or seize their belongings. I wouldn’t wait months till the debt’s paid up, that’s for sure. Hit ’em where it hurts, that’s what I say.’

Harry bristled. ‘It’s just as well Mr Jacobs is in charge then, and not you, eh?’

Flinging his cigarette on the ground, the other man screwed it flat with the heel of his shoe. ‘Are you having a go at me, or what?’ He gave a half-smile, but his
pale eyes glittered with anger.

Harry shrugged. ‘What makes you think that?’

‘I didn’t much care for that remark.’

‘Just an observation, that’s all.’ Harry played it cool. He needed to keep this job. Also, he believed he could make a few changes if he went about it the right way. Antagonising Len was not a clever move just now.

‘So you’re not having a go then?’

‘Is there any reason why I
should?’ Harry answered cagily.

It seemed an age before the other man replied.

He gave a sly sideways glance at Harry, then he licked his dry lips and burst out laughing. ‘You’re a card an’ no mistake!’ he chortled. ‘D’you know what? You and me are out of the same mould. Something tells me we’re going to get on like a house on fire.’

Harry gave no response but the other man’s sickening observation
only hardened his resolve. He promised himself that once he knew the ropes, he would never work with this man again.

In fact, he had not altogether dismissed the idea of speaking with Mr Jacobs about Len’s attitude to the customers.

The day went by much quicker than Harry expected.

By lunchtime, they had covered all the streets west of the river. They had a light lunch in the bar of the Swan
Hotel, where Len eyed up every waitress, guest and even the shy young woman who came in trying to sell bed linen to the manageress. ‘I wouldn’t mind trying out a bed or two with her!’ he said lasciviously.

Len ogled her from the minute she set foot in the foyer, to when she followed the manageress to her office and then went and sat at the bar to partake of a glass of orange juice to drown her
disappointment at not making a sale. And now, as she carried her wares towards the main doors, he said to Harry, ‘You just watch me in action! I’ll have her eating out of my hand in no time.’

Glancing back to wink at Harry, he stalked the young woman to the door. ‘You can sell me anything you like, my little beauty,’ he teased. ‘Any time, any place. I’m not a hard man to please.’

The young woman
looked him up and down, noting the beer belly and the drooping jowls, and she gave a kind of snort. ‘Clear off, you creep!’ she snarled. ‘If you think I’d even give you a second glance, you’re way out of your tree.’ She’d had a bad day and he was making it worse.

‘Hey!’ Rattled by her remarks, Len took a step towards her. ‘Seems to me like you need a lesson in manners, you little tart.’

When
at that moment the young woman’s burly boss arrived on the scene, Len swiftly made himself scarce. ‘Ready, are you, Harry?’ he asked. Rushing out of the back door, he left Harry to follow behind. ‘You got your comeuppance there, all right,’ Harry chuckled to himself.

But he had not forgotten how Len was shamefully abusing his trusted position of authority.

The next stop was Moff Avenue – a long
meandering street of sturdy Victorian houses. ‘We’ve got some good customers down here,’ Len told him. ‘Most of ’em pay on the dot, though occasionally, some do try it on.’

Pausing at number 3, he rat-tatted on the door. ‘You’ll need to watch out for the skivers,’ he advised with a sideways nod of the head. ‘They’ll give you any excuse that comes to mind. You have to ignore all that. They’re
trying it on, that’s all. Just trying it on.’ A fleeting surge of anger blushed across his face.

‘Go away, mister!’ A little girl’s face peered down from the bedroom window. ‘Me mam’s not ’ome yet. You’ll have to come back next week.’

Len called back, ‘You tell your mam to get down here,’ he instructed. ‘I want a word with her …
now
, if you please.’

‘She can’t come down. She’s in bed poorly.’

Impatient, Len snapped, ‘You tell her that I’m staying right here until she comes down.’

A moment later the front door was inched open. ‘What the devil’s going on? What’s all the yelling about?’ Dressed in a cream-coloured dressing gown and wearing yesterday’s make-up, the woman looked to be in her thirties. She was tall and shapely with tousled hair and long painted fingernails. ‘Oh, it’s you!’
She shook her head. ‘I might have known.’ She glanced at Harry. ‘Who’s your good-looking friend?’

Len frowned. ‘Never mind about that, Maureen. It’s
me
you should be worried about.’

Clutching her dressing gown together, she held it tightly closed. ‘It’s no good you asking for money because there isn’t any. My Jim was out on the booze again last night.’ She gave him an appealing look. ‘You
know what it’s like, Len. He gets his wages of a Friday and come Saturday night, there’s nothing left. I’ve begged and pleaded with him, but he never changes; he never will.’

Len stood his ground. ‘Your domestic troubles are not my problem.’

‘I know that. But I can’t give you what I ain’t got. You’ll just have to come back next week. I’ll see what I can do for you then.’

When she prepared to
close the door, Len wedged it open with his foot. ‘Not so fast, my beauty.’

The woman took a step backwards. ‘Don’t start on me,’ she retaliated. ‘I’ve got my girl off school. She’s not been well.’

Len apologised. ‘Oh, I’m sorry about that, Maureen. I didn’t realise. But if I’m to sort out your arrears, I’ll need to come in for a few minutes. Is that all right? I promise, it won’t take long.’

‘I’m not sure about that …’ She hesitated, then sensing his eyes on her, she drew the gown tighter about her. ‘Give me a minute then.’ With that she disappeared inside, leaving the door open for him.

Addressing Harry, Len explained, ‘She’s one of our worst customers. This is the third time in a month that she’s missed a payment. If I don’t sort it this week, Jacobs will go through the roof.’

Harry had seen the look of apprehension on the woman’s face. ‘How will you sort it?’ he asked. ‘You can’t get blood out of a stone.’

‘Trust me, I’m sure we’ll thrash out an arrangement that will suit all round. Just take the ledger, Harry. Look – there’s a sweet old lady lives across the street – number 14, name of Ada Benson. She’s a regular payer, you’ll get no trouble from her.’

He handed
Harry the ledger. ‘Go and introduce yourself – oh, and don’t forget to sign her tally-book. She’s very fussy about that.’

Somewhat bemused, Harry took the ledger and made his way across the street, discreetly glancing back as he knocked on Ada Benson’s door. He saw Len go inside number 3, and he watched the door close behind him. He had a bad feeling about it, though he didn’t really know why.

‘Hello, young man!’ The cheery voice interrupted his thoughts, ‘Have you come to see me?’ Old and shrivelled, Ada Benson was still a pretty woman, with her soft curly grey hair, fine features and large green eyes.

‘Yes, Mrs Benson, I’m Harry. I’m new.’ Harry held out his hand in greeting. ‘I’m here with Len.’

The little woman’s face crumpled into a smile, ‘Oh, I see.’ She grabbed his outstretched
hand. ‘You’re from Jacobs’ Emporium, aren’t you?’

‘That’s right.’ Harry liked her straight off. ‘I’m learning the rounds.’

Stepping back, she invited him to ‘Come in, come in. I’ve baked a cake … I always bake a cake for when Len comes to call. Oh, and I’ve got my book ready and everything.’

Tugging at him, she drew Harry inside. ‘Oh, now I’ve forgotten your name.’ She screwed up her face in
concentration. ‘Oh yes, it’s Harry, isn’t it, yes. Come in, Harry. Please come in!’

When Harry glanced back, she asked quietly, ‘Is Len over there … in Maureen’s house?’

Harry nodded. ‘Yes.’

She rolled her eyes knowingly. ‘Ah well, I shouldn’t worry. He’ll be a while yet.’

Taking Harry along the narrow passageway to the kitchen, the little woman chuckled, ‘Naughty boy Len!’ She clapped her
hands as though smacking a child. ‘I’ll have you know, there was a time when I was so pretty the men could never resist
me
either.’

As they entered the kitchen, the wonderful aroma of fresh-baked bread filled Harry’s nostrils. It put him in mind of Irish Kathleen.

When he was a youngster in Fisher’s Hill he spent many a happy time in Kathleen’s delightful house. The smell of fresh bread never
failed to entice him in. Those precious memories were as warm and welcome as the hug she gave him, and the chunky slice of brown bread smothered in melting butter and thick home-made strawberry jam.

He was so grateful that she had taken him and young Tom into that same delightful house, and showed them the same, warm welcome.

For the next half-hour, Harry was fed with cherry cake and cups of
piping hot tea, and in between he was entertained by stories of Ada’s colourful youth, and the young men she had met and lost along the way.

‘There was never really anyone serious until I met my Cyril,’ she confided. ‘He and I were married for forty-two years and I talk to him every single day.’

Her large eyes swam with tears. ‘When you’re young, you think
you’re invincible. You never think
you might grow old … oh no! That’s for your grandma and grandad, but you’ll never be old, or wrinkly, or ache when you walk. No, you’re young, you’ll always be young. You’ll run and dance and never have to worry about bending down and hurting your back. Because you’ll be forever you – young and beautiful.’

She tapped her bony little chest. ‘In here, we stay young and beautiful for ever and ever.’
She gave a little chuckle. ‘Oh dear. We were so foolish, to think the years could never change us.’

One solitary teardrop trickled from her eye. ‘My Cyril said that whenever he looked at me, he could only ever see a pretty young girl.’ A mystical smile uplifted her face. ‘I love him so very much, Harry. Oh, and I do miss him so.’

That glimpse of Ada’s sadness heightened Harry’s own crippling
loss, and for one fleeting moment, the two of them sat quietly, Ada looking lost in the big old armchair and Harry on the tiny sofa; their thoughts drifting back over the years.

A short time later, Harry was being led back down the passageway. ‘Right, well, thank you so much, Ada.’ Harry was tempted to plant a little kiss on that sweet face, but a sense of protocol stopped him from doing so.
‘I’ve really enjoyed our first meeting,’ he told her warmly. ‘I’ve signed your tally-book, I’ve eaten your amazing cherry cake, and I’ve drunk your tea. And now I’d best get on with the rounds.’

‘You’re a lovely young man,’ Ada told him at the door. ‘My Cyril would have liked you.’

When her tears threatened, Harry thought, To hell with protocoal, and he bent down to kiss her tenderly on the
cheek. ‘And I’m sure I would have liked him too,’ he assured her.

Taken aback when she wrapped her tiny hands about his face, he looked into those bright old eyes and like her husband Cyril, he could see the beauty and grace of a young girl. ‘Shall I tell you something, Ada?’ he asked softly.

She nodded. ‘Please do, yes.’

‘I know exactly what your Cyril meant, when he said he looked at you
and could see only the young girl you once were.’

Her face lit up. ‘Oh! Do you really?’

‘I do, yes – and I know something else too.’

Her smile was like a bright summer’s day. ‘What do you know?’

‘I know you will never be old …
never
!’

‘Oh!’ Like a child she clapped her hands together and he laughed out loud, and soon the two of them were chuckling together like
old friends. ‘Tell Len I’m
glad it was you who came to see me,’ she said, and Harry promised he would do just that.

When Ada closed the door, Harry began to walk back across the street. As he did so, he saw Len come sidling out of Maureen Rook’s house, red in the face and discreetly straightening his jacket.

It was blatantly obvious to Harry that he had not gone into the house to help Maureen ‘sort out her debts’ as he
had claimed. Instead, he believed the chirpy little Amy to be right; that Len had collected payment of another kind.

‘Ah!’ Len greeted Harry in his usual bombastic manner. ‘Seen Ada, have you?’ There was no mention of Maureen. ‘I bet she gave you a chunk of cake and plied you with tea, until you felt it coming out your ears?’ He patted Harry on the back.

Harry gave no answer, and Len didn’t
even notice. He was too busy preening himself.

As they resumed their rounds, Harry glanced back at Maureen’s house, and there in the window was the little girl who had first called down to them. With her small hands flattened against the pane she watched them go down the street. Harry smiled at her, but she did not smile back. Instead, she kept watching them. Watching Len particularly.